And, in the end, they had not come face-to-face at all, although she had been very aware that the lady had stared at her most intently whenever she thought Emmeline was not aware.
Emmeline had been somewhat uncomfortable, not having been so closely and determinedly regarded by anybody since the night of her humiliation at Ashton House. It had grated on her nerves a little and, at one point, she had to stop herself from turning around and staring back at the lady, so much had she wanted to let her know that she had perceived her curiosity and wished her to stop.
But, of course, it would not have done anything to help Hunter Bentley. And, after all, she felt duty-bound to do whatever she needed to do to help him navigate the very choppy seas of that particular social engagement. Emmeline would never, as long as she lived, forget what he had done for her those short weeks ago when she had suffered.
Emmeline had felt great sadness to see how he struggled with the dancing. He had fought not to look directly at Felicity when they had crossed in the dance, and she had seen it most distinctly. How he must have been suffering at that moment. But she felt sure, given time, that they would both heal. It was very early days, and their feelings of betrayal were still raw and ever present.
If she was honest, she had been quite well-prepared for the idea that Hunter would have to fight his way from one end of the evening to the other. She had known that he would look upon the woman he had loved so dearly and be obviously affected by her. But what she had not been prepared for was the curious reaction of the Duchess.
When they had walked away from the dancing, arm in arm, Emmeline had seen the Duchess looking at them with such intensity that she had been forced to let her eyes flick in her direction and regard her quickly. And what she saw had almost stopped her in her tracks; there was such a look on the Duchess’ face that Emmeline could hardly pick through the emotions of it all. Initially, she looked envious, and Emmeline thought that quite natural for a woman who saw her old love with another, even if he was only in such company because of her own actions. But as she studied her a little more closely, Emmeline could see such great sadness there, so much regret, that she had almost exclaimed. She had almost pitied the woman for what she could see in her eyes.
For by the end of it, by the time they had made their way back to their table, Emmeline had been left in no doubt whatsoever that Felicity Burton, the Duchess of Galcross, was still in love with Hunter Bentley. And perhaps, in the end, it was that look of pain which she could not dispel from her mind and had left her in such a peculiar mood. But how could she explain any of that to her mother? How could she tell her that she had, albeit briefly, pitied the woman who had caused Lord Addison as much pain in his heart as Christopher Lennox had caused her? She could not, for such a thing could not be explained.
“What time is that dreadful man coming?” Emmeline said suddenly, keen to break away from her own thoughts for a while.
“Oh, you mean Kent?”
“Indeed, I do.”
“I only know that it is this afternoon, my dear. Hopefully after luncheon, for I always find that his presence gives me indigestion.”
“Oh, Mama!” Emmeline said and laughed loudly. “Dear me, that is awfully funny.”
“As funny as you might find it, Emmeline, it is the truth. And I do not simply think it a case of resentment for his inheritance, although I do resent him wholeheartedly.” She nodded vigorously as if to stress that point. “But I find I cannot take to the man at all and, for reasons I cannot explain, I do not like him. Even if he were not the son of your father’s cousin and the nearest male heir to take his estate, still I think I would not like him. There is something about him which I cannot quite put my finger on, but I think if I could, it would quite unsettle me.”
“Then you think him as dreadful as I do, Mama.” Emmeline laughed.
“You do not like him either?”
“I think he has motives or designs that we are not yet aware of. I find it hard to explain, but I do not like to be too close to him.”
“In what way?” Constance seemed suddenly concerned.
“You must not make yourself uneasy, Mama. In truth, I cannot accuse him of anything, and I should not like to do so. He has done nothing to me that could be considered improper, nor has he made any suggestion of that nature. Forgive me, I did not mean to upset you in that regard.”
“But still he makes you uneasy. He makes you uncomfortable,” Constance went on.
“I do not think it is because of something he has done, Mama, but because of something he has yet to do.” Emmeline shook her head as if to order her thoughts a little better. “I realize that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, and yet I cannot think of another way of explaining the thing.”
“You think him capable of something distasteful?”
“I am not sure what I think him incapable of, in all honesty.”
“But you have an instinct about him?”
“Yes, I think that probably describes it perfectly. I think I have an instinct about him, as you put it, which tells me that I must remain aware of him at all times. That I must not take my eye off him or assume for a moment that he is as pleasant and amiable as he tries to portray himself.”
“Yes, and he is very pleasant,” Constance said as if she was pleased to hear that her daughter felt a little of what she did. “And although he says nothing that would tend to make that very pleasantness quite false, still I cannot help thinking it is. But for the life of me, I could not explain to somebody why.”
“At first, I thought to do what I could to welcome him, Mama. After all, the workings of the inheritance of this estate are no more his doing than ours. But I think I quickly realized that it was a mistake to extend too much friendship in his direction. He seemed to become familiar a little faster than I am comfortable with, even if he is kin. He still feels like a stranger to me, and I am sure he does to you also. But he is a familiar stranger, and the whole thing is very unsettling.”
“Yes, it is. And now that I have once asked him to stay when he was here on business, I fear I cannot escape making the same invitation again. After all, I can hardly insist that having once been a guest here with us, he now takes up lodgings or stays at the inn when he is in the county.”
“Quite so, it would cause embarrassment.”
“But I wish that we could at least, if nothing else, have these last few months here at Tarlton Manor in peace without him. I cannot relax when he is here.”
“Neither can I, Mama. In truth, I think, in the end, that I do not trust him.”
“No, neither do I.”
Chapter 12
“Do you play, cousin?” Kent Fitzgerald joined Emmeline as she stood at the side of the bridge table where Hunter Bentley was partnering Algernon Rochester.